


Bend, Break, Crash (Rinse & Repeat)

by Ebraheart



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, BAMF Kylo, Delicate subject matter handled as carefully as possible, Developing Friendships, Developing Relationship, F/M, Hard Kylux, Headstrong Hux, M/M, Mild Language, Multi, Other, Parent-centered Issues, Past Violence, Sexual Content, Soft Kylux, Supporting Character Death, Unresolved Sexual Tension, past suicidal ideation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-06-24
Updated: 2017-06-24
Packaged: 2018-11-18 13:32:39
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11291685
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ebraheart/pseuds/Ebraheart
Summary: Tattoo artist Kylo Ren lives on the West Coast as far away from his Activist mother as possible and hasn't seen his father since the criminal investigation in his childhood that removed a then Ben Solo from his father's custody and placed said father in Witness Protection. He's content with having made it through rehab in one piece, though becoming best friends with his therapist Poe hadn't been par for the course nor going into business together on a joint venture. But Kylo prides himself on being able to take things in stride (despite his wicked temper) and has made the best of a strange situation.Armitage B. Hux is nearly a year out of the Navy and still adjusting to civilian life with the help of his best friend Finn and his girlfriend Rey. Still secretly recovering from the loss of his mother prior to his service in the Navy and still casually indifferent to his father's passing a few years after that, Hux is left to his Obsessive Compulsive tendencies more often than not. Past abuses litter some of his formative years and it's a full-time job to keep it from showing.This is the story of how they meet and the circumstances that first bring them together, then start to tear them apart.





	Bend, Break, Crash (Rinse & Repeat)

**Author's Note:**

> First attempt at anything Kylux so please keep an open mind. I don't think they are terribly in character but It's my spin on things. A soundtrack for this work is primarily stuff by Royal Blood; I sneak music titles in a few spots where I was listening to said music as I wrote. Kudos and comments are appreciated. I will try to post a chapter a week, time permitting, until complete; approximately 5-6 chapters of this length are planned. Glad you are all along for the ride! Enjoy!

Bend, Break, Crash

Chapter 1

~!@!~

[Hux] 

I did a last cursory shuffle through Phasma’s day planner before I decided to step out and greet my first appointment. I’d had advance notice regarding her pre-scheduled appointments and I had organized this particular Monday to slot in a few of her clients to keep Phasma up to date; for when she returned from holidays.

If someone had told me that I’d be working in banking after spending several years in a military profession, I’d have scoffed, but I was very good with numbers and had aggressively obtained my accounting degree in night classes in a short time prior to moving out here, riding on Finn’s coattails. It was as good a place to start as any and I required a modicum of experience before I could appropriately expect to move on. I was dressed business casual: pale green dress shirt, silver paisley tie, silver slacks, and light brown wingtips. I had forgone my matching jacket when I’d got to the bank as the heat was rearing its head and I’d be a wilted flower by noon if I insisted on it, even with the A/C. My red hair was combed off my forehead and styled to keep out of my face.

The Navy had also instilled in me the importance of precision, though I’d always been attentive and focused, even as a child. I was single-minded in most things and I couldn’t help recalling the multitude of hobbies my mother had indulged when I was growing up, much to my father’s disdain. But those were musings for another time. I simply didn’t wish to appear too casual least someone take that as a sign to be forward with me but I understood that I had to be approachable. I’d never approved of Ike’s casual preference for polo shirts at work and felt the snob in me bristle as we greeted each other in the short hallway between our offices.

But I quickly re-focused my attention to the first appointment of the day: a Mr. Dameron and a Mr. Ren, business partners.

Phasma had kept detailed meeting records and financial notes but I was regardless unprepared for what these gentlemen would look like and as I rounded the corner into the waiting area I realized that maybe referring to them as gentlemen was perhaps a stretch?

They both wore casual clothing: the smaller of the two, a handsome man with lighter near-olive skin and dark brown hair. He had a pleasant face: open and trusting, a smile playing around his mouth as he quietly chatted with the taller man seated at his side. There were deep laugh lines at the outer creases of his eyes and a glint in them that spoke of inherent, bone-deep satisfaction with life. He wore jeans, a plain white tee and red converse sneakers, the picture of casual. Tattoos peeked at me from beneath the edge of his t-shirt sleeves but he was modest compared to the other man.

The taller man was equally striking: shockingly pale in places while contrastingly tan in others, as well being significantly taller with a shock of wavy shoulder-length black hair tucked behind large ears, in a face with an aristocratically long nose and a moue of a mouth. He was the furthest thing from subtle as was possible for a man to be, and the effect was unexpectedly jarring. An unusual piercing glinted subtly: a silver ball at the level of the philtrum.

I knew the weather here along the coast permitted all manner of light clothing but the man wore a dark red sleeveless tee, the kind with the deep arm openings and it showcased his ribcage on either side of his torso. He wore black skinny jeans that left nothing to the imagination with regards to his fitness or the astounding length of his legs and large grey converse sneakers. Unlike his companion, this man’s tattoos seemed to cover every inch of visible skin: a snake eating its own tail around his neck, branches of a tree visible at his collarbones and across his ribs, each arm showcasing a set of planets, a merging geometric pattern across the back of his right hand, the least of which appeared to be a stunningly colorful chameleon creeping across from the man’s left ankle to the dorsum of his foot. And those were the ones I was able to notice at a cursory glance, my eyes flicking from top to bottom in a handful of seconds.

All this I cataloged as I came close enough to politely announce my presence, hand extended, and a deeply ingrained professionalism that prompted me to ignore my opinionated first impression, “Mr. Dameron? Mr.Ren? Good morning; please call me Hux. I’m looking after Phasma’s roster while she’s away”

Mr. Dameron smiled and rose, firm handshake at the ready, “Call me Poe! Phasma said you’d be able to fill us in on wrapping up our loan paperwork?”

I nodded, glancing at the other man as he stood, smoothly offering him the required handshake. 

Mr. Ren was a good 6 foot 3 at least and his large hand dwarfed mine, but instead of shaking it, he turned it over and ran the pad of his thumb over my knuckles. 

Instinctually, my shoulders tensed and I almost pulled my hand way, but I remembered where I was and who with and relaxed incrementally, tilting my head in askance, expression bland, “Problem Mr. Ren?” 

Mr. Ren looked down at me, large brown and gold speckled eyes assessing and a slow, knowing smile spreading across his face, “Kylo”, he corrected, then: “You’re a perfect canvas” 

Mr. Dameron interrupted, elbowing Mr. Ren and raising an eyebrow with a mouth half-quirked into a smile, “Kylo, you know you need a person’s permission to touch them, right?” 

Mr. Ren, Kylo, grinned at Mr. Dameron and rolled his eyes, but released my hand. To me, he shrugged, as if in apology, but his eyes were roving over me in a decidedly unnecessary way.

Schooling my features, I nodded my thanks to Mr. Dameron, who was too busy raising his eyebrows at Kylo, and motioned for them to follow me into my corner office. 

Over my shoulder, the men followed and I heard snatches of whispered conversation along the lines of “Lay off him”, and the quick reply, “He likes it” 

Internally sighing, I prepared for what was sure to be a test in patience if this Kylo Ren’s first impression was anything to go by.

~!@!~ 

[Kylo] 

The office was exactly as I’d expected: barren and tidy. 

Boring.

Hux and Poe were having a chat about the approved loan we were after to renovate the space above the tattoo parlour; Poe needed more ‘community’ room and that would do nicely.

The name plate on Hux’s desk didn’t spell out his first name and I was curious. 

‘A.B. Hux’ didn’t tell me much and I was wondering about his background.

He was a bright, coppery redhead, the real kind with the near blond roots and matching milk white skin, freckles, and porcelain-doll green eyes. He was slight, but nearly as tall as me, just over six feet at least.

There was a practiced way he did everything that clued me into past training, army maybe, and he could look right at you without really seeing you, giving the illusion of attention while still creating that personal barrier. I noticed the way he probably focused on either the nose or some spot on the forehead to fake looking into eyes, a blatant distancing technique.

I hung back, watching the way he never quite smiled at Poe’s quips or enthusiasm and the tense set to his shoulders that screamed control. He was marshalling his thoughts and modulating his behaviour even as he acted. He was tightly wound up; the type to stress.

Poe made things easier of course, giving no indication he noticed Hux’s not indiscernible subtleties. He was open and sincere and never quite made you feel like you were opening up, even when you were. It was surreal to watch them talking to each other, each yielding to the other in turns: one out of a sense of obligation and the other out of kindness.

Hux glanced at me now and again as he spoke or responded to questions, and even though his eyes never lingered, the tick in his jaw told me he knew I was starring. Poe tried to distract me too, trying to take the heat out of my overt interest in this enigma of a man by asking me questions or looking for my agreement to the things he said, but I only murmured my approval and kept my focus right where it was. 

On Hux. 

I’d never had a preference for men over women and vice versa and grown into an ease with both over the years. It was easy when you did the kind of hands on work I did. People were people. Hux wasn’t classically good looking but his features were sharp and precise, like a sculpture from the Roman era and his skin was nothing short of luminous, like fog lit by sunlight from within. I hadn’t been joking when I’d said he’d make a perfect canvas. I’d been tattooing well over ten years now, and though I personally loved tattooing different skin types, I knew in the marrow of my bones that color would stand out starkly on this man.

I watched his hands as he typed on the keyboard of his computer and imagined a Japanese-inspired dragon coiling up his arm, all iridescent green scales and flashing gold eyes. I liked the long expanse of his pale neck and imagined a lotus flower in pastels blooming there; his skin would make even the gentler, paler colors glow. 

I felt a twinge in my gut (the one I’d been experiencing my whole life that told me when to pay attention, when to reach out, when to retreat, and how to taste the mood of those around me, like the afterthought of smoke from a cigarette that you weren’t smoking) and I tuned back into the proceedings, finding that both Poe and Hux were staring at me, that the loan paperwork was laying in front of me, waiting on my signature.

I grinned at the pair of them, not the slightest bit ashamed by my distracted musings and signed neatly, beside the x designated on the page, under Poe’s showy script-like signature.

Hux seemed suddenly relieved and I realized that this was probably the conclusion of the appointment. I pretended to cough discreetly and when Hux turned, grinned at him knowingly.

Poe was thanking Hux and standing to leave, and Hux’s narrowed eyes melted into a pleasantly neutral expression as he stood and returned the pleasantries. They were both by the door before I had decided to move. 

I slowly leaned forward and thumbed Hux’s card from the holder on his desk, noting it too didn’t have the man’s first name, and stood. Catching Hux’s eye as I exited the office behind Poe, I looked slightly down into his face as I moved passed him, and winked, delighted at the openly irritated expression Hux let slip before his features schooled themselves back into neutrality.

When his office door closed behind us, Poe gave me a long look over his shoulder, “Please tell me you aren’t thinking what you’re thinking?” 

I laughed and leaned around him to pull the doors to the bank open and ushered him through, “And what exactly am I thinking?” 

Poe was just under 5’10 so when he stopped abruptly and cocked his head back to look up into my face, I almost tripped into him, “Don’t do it, okay? Poor guy is wound up tight and won’t like your brand of attention, you know?” 

I steadied myself with a hand on Poe’s shoulder and shrugged, “He could use a little help unwinding, don’t you think?”

Poe’s answering groan became a laugh as we stepped out into the sun. As if on cue, we both pulled out our sunglasses and slipped them on.

Poe arched any eyebrow at me and I shrugged again, “You know I love a challenge but really, when am I ever going to see the guy again? I was just daydreaming a little about that skin. Sue me” 

Poe, satisfied, fished the Jeep’s keys out of his pocket and tossed them to me as we walked, “You’re driving; I did all the work in there” 

We’d taken the doors off as soon as the rainy season had passed and I was adjusting the rear-view mirror when I got another familiar twinge. Glancing quickly over my shoulder, I watched the blinds fall back into place in a corner office. 

Grinning, I gunned the engine and Poe zeroes in on my triumphant expression, “Help me; what now?”

I just cocked my eyebrow at him and grinned, “Don’t worry about it”, and we were off.

I knew Hux hadn’t been as untouchable as he looked. 

~!@!~

[Hux] 

After the odd first appointment of the day, it’d been much the same as usual. I only had four more meetings and a quick end-of-the-day staff meet before we closed for the day. Although I kept my phone with me, I’d not really checked it and glanced at it as I walked out to my car. Finn had texted, wanting to know if I would meet him and Rey for supper.

I smiled, despite myself, and texted back, agreeing to the Italian homemade pizza place steps from either of our apartments. 

I’d only admit it to a chosen few, but I had grown accustomed to spending time with people that weren’t my late mother and the reliance on these interactions was becoming routine. 

There was the usual smoggy traffic on the way home and I had the A/C on and my tie off. 

Moving to the coast had been an easy choice. When Finn and I had gotten out of the Navy, he’d insisted I follow him home. My mother had been dead a long time it seemed now, my father’s death occurring only a few short years later. I didn’t have any siblings though I was in touch with a handful of my mother’s relatives in Ireland and England. The weather didn’t completely disagree with me, even if I couldn’t achieve the tan that was par for the course, and my freckles seemed to have wildly multiplied in the 9 months I’d lived here. I had an orderly and simple lifestyle and according to Finn, had made some admiral progress living as a normal human being.

I liked Finn, though I had trouble interacting with most people, and I was thankful for the handful of people that I did have some closeness with. I’d never needed much to feel comfortable.

Back home, I unlocked the door and waited, tossing my keys into the bowl by the door. 

Millicent, a large mostly orange tabby cat Rey had convinced me to adopt from the SPCA, came slinking around the corner from the direction of the living room. She was older, about 7 or 8, and extremely dignified. She’d not been suitable for a home with other animals and children and she’d been in line for euthanasia. 

Leaning down, I offered my right hand and she brushed past it, did a figure eight about my legs, and returned the way she had come, stopping now by the kitchen and looking at me as if waiting for me to get a clue and follow.

I did and set out her food bowl and refreshed her water dish. 

Next, I closed all the blinds though it was still early and went to the bedroom to pick out a suitable set of clothes. As I moved quietly through the apartment, unbuttoning my dress shirt as I went, thoughts of Kylo Ren came unbidden to me. 

I wasn’t sure if the man was arrogant or overconfident or what exactly made him smile in the strangely knowing way that he did. It was a curious combination in someone, to be so showy and subtle in equal parts. I knew that my initial impression was of dislike, after a fashion, but I also admired the easy way he seemed unafraid of how he was perceived. He’d starred at me openly, mocked me discreetly, and been delighted with my irritation. Almost as if the point was that I notice him, no matter the reason. 

Taking my jeans and tee to the bathroom, I had a quick shower and marvelled at the number of freckles that seemed to be blooming on me daily since the start of the even hotter summer months. They were extremely faint but everywhere, even on the backs of my fingers. I thought again of Kylo and his proclamation that I was a ‘perfect canvas’. He’d not really seen the overabundance of freckles, or the long silvery scars that extended from my wrists to my elbows on both arms, or the puckered scar in my right side. He’d not seen that I was flat footed and shockingly thin. He couldn’t see that my discipline was less about being stuck up or pretentious, and more about managing to take every day one day at a time. That every time I opened my eyes in the morning, it was a victory and not just another day.

Out of the shower and brushing my teeth, Finn would say I was wearing my storm cloud expression but thinking about everything Kylo Ren seemed to be that I was not had annoyed me. Some people took their luck of getting through life unaffected too lightly but of course they didn’t know they were taking it for granted. Didn’t matter though; I was never going to see the man again. He was Phasma’s problem and now that I knew, I would dodge that bullet next time she took holidays.

I dressed and cracked the patio door for Millicent before I stepped out into the setting sun.

It was a short walk to Gianni’s and Finn and Rey were already there.

Finn had been training me to bump fists and I obediently tapped a loose fist to his as I sat. Rey leaned over to hug me around the shoulders loosely and moved a glass of water into my reach. 

Finn grinned as he watched, “Remember when you hated each other?” 

I had the glass of water to my lips and only quirked an eyebrow. Rey looked offended for the both of us, “Hey! We are high school sweethearts! You try adjusting to your boyfriend having a boyfriend after not seeing him over a year!” 

This was a running joke between the two that I didn’t participate in, other than to pretend they weren’t talking. 

Finn took a long drink of his water and toasted my glass, “That’s good water” 

Rey rolled her eyes and laughed, “Nice. Deflecting. Can we order now?” 

Noting that they were both looking at me, I decided that now was as good time as any to start in on my conversation quota, “Order away” 

Finn and I agreed wordlessly on the seafood special, which made Rey pull a face and order a triple cheese panzerotti for herself. Order’s placed with Noona, the chef’s wife, Finn and Rey shared a look that I was coming to recognize as the ‘Operation Socialize!’ expression.

Finn started off casually, “How was work?” 

I gave him a long look that said exactly what I thought about that question but knew this was part of the quota, “Fine. Had an odd start to the day with my first appointment but it was smooth after that” 

“Odd how?” Rey prompted. 

I shrugged, “Just the guys that came in, like Ying and Yang, and the one was on a mission to get under my skin” 

Finn grinned, “Good fucking luck” 

I appreciated Finn’s faith in me but had to admit, “Actually, he did a bit” 

Rey and Finn both looked unnecessarily scandalized on my behalf so I clarified, “He just wanted to get a reaction out of me and he didn’t seem to care one way or another what the reaction was” 

Rey shrugged, “Some people are like that, getting their kicks from poking other people”

Finn seemed of the same opinion, “You can handle yourself and it’s not like you’ll see the guy again, right?”

Rey perked up and changed the subject, “Listen, there’s this new community outreach spot opening up soon by us and we were thinking it might be cool to volunteer” 

Finn gave me a hopeful look and continued where Rey left off, “It’d be once or twice a week for a little bit. Some of the guys said it needs just a little help starting up” 

Some of the guys means some of the other people Finn had been familiar with in the Navy, and I was tempted to say no based on that alone, but I was learning to be myself since I’d been out and knew I was significantly harder to tamper with than I had been back then.

As was the norm with these two, tag-teaming when they were on a roll, Rey jumped in, “Some of my friends are going too and really, it’s not always about interacting with other people. They really need help getting office stuff organized and there are tons of odd jobs” 

I narrowed my eyes at the pair of them. They knew I had to have options as my tolerance for strangers was pretty minimal, “And whose idea was this one?”

Finn pointedly looked at Rey who pointedly looked back, both sporting false-wide eyed expressions.

Finn caved first while Rey cackled in my ear, “You know us. We just want to give you more opportunities to work on that tan” 

Rey grinned at me, “It’s a short walk away. We can take you to check it out after supper” 

Knowing I wasn’t getting out of this unless I had a really, really good reason to wiggle out of it, I nodded slowly. 

The food arriving saved me from any further comment.

~!@!~

[Kylo] 

Poe was grinning from ear to ear, looking over the dusty space. 

When I’d got out of therapy and decided to open the parlour, Poe had been instrumental in getting me where I am today so it stood to reason that it would be no big thing to return the kindness. Besides, buying out the rest of the building assured that I’d stay open as long as I wanted and would close and sell when I was ready to close and sell. If Poe wanted to use the empty space over the shop to do what he did best, that was no big hardship. 

The irony that it’d been an old Planned Parenthood nook was not lost on me, considering what my mom did for a living, but it was a bonus that we wouldn’t have to totally re-do the layout.

Poe gave me a side-eyed look and reached over to pull me against him in a one-armed hug, “This is gonna be great!”

“Calm down”, I demurred as a untangled myself, “There’s still a lot that needs to happen” 

Poe nodded but was looking around the space with that fairy-tale sparkle in his eye.

Laughing, but aware that I had a 7 pm appointment, I patted his shoulder, “I’ll be downstairs directing all wayward volunteers your way, ok?” 

Poe nodded and set about flicking on the lights, “Put the sign in the front window, will ya?”

I nodded, though he didn’t see it, and turned back the way we’d come, into the narrow hallway and headed down the stairs at the end. The discreet outside fire escape-like entrance had been scrapped before I’d even started the parlour by a garbage truck squeezing in too close in the narrow side alley. Poe’s minions would have to come in through the parlour until we got that figured out. 

In the parlour proper, Royal Blood’s ‘I Only Lie When I Love You’ rumbled through the speakers and my 7 pm appointment was loitering by the front door, looking out.

Blake was one of those football looking characters that was native to this part of the US but had way more sense than you gave him credit for at first glance with hazel eyes and an easy smile. The guy was partway through a bio-chemistry degree at the local university. We were half way through negotiating what he wanted to do for the lower half of a right arm sleeve. This was just a follow up to confirm a few details and make the real appointment. I’d want at least four or five hours to really get started and Blake had a weird schedule.

I motioned him into the back consultation space and nabbed Poe’s sign from where he’d leaned it against the front counter, something to help direct volunteers that weren’t expecting the community center to be above the tattoo parlour and set it in an open space in the front window that we had agreed was visible enough.

Poe had been a fixture in this part of the coast for so much longer than I that he’d been familiar with an array of individuals and been a well of resources. Through him, I’d been able to commission a local legend by the artist tag BB-8 to paint the theme inside the parlor.

I’d been fascinated with space and stars and the possibility of life out there since I was a child and the wall to ceiling mural that showcased planets and nebulas and impressions of black holes in vivid oil pain, with beads and glitter and shards of glass mixed in with the paint set against a backdrop of dark near-black navy blue was at its most stunning in the late evening light. I grinned as I watched the light spark the kaleidoscope of color it did when the sun hit parts of the mural. 

I was still tattooing BB-8 for free, going on three years on account that I could never have afforded this work otherwise, but I was constantly reminded that it was worth it.

I joined Blake in my consultation room to find him seated by my artist’s desk on a stool.

I took a seat and lay aside some ideas that I’d been doodling early in the day, when Hux’s pale skin had still strongly been on my mind. I’d set out Blake’s idea folder earlier and pulled it open and laid out some of the sketches he’d been keenest on the last time he’d been in. 

My artist’s table had been another commissioned gift from Poe by an acquaintance after I’d first got my hands on the parlor. It was made from re-soldered metal with a glass face, and a high back that put the drawing surface at an angle with a built it display light beneath a second sheet of frosted glass that lit up my work surface with light from behind. I’d always been stupidly tall and most conventionally sold art desks hadn’t cut it. This one was as wide as both my arms spread out and tall enough that I could stretch my legs out underneath it, even sitting up on a stool. Most days I even drew standing up, leaning against the lower edge.

Blake and I fall into our usual pattern of him trying to let me take the reins while I led him through his own ideas and tried to give them shape on paper.

A half our later, we’ve made about as much progress can be expected considering this has been a sleeve a year and a half in the making and moved back to the front of the parlour. 

It was quiet for a Friday night and I operated by appointment only on Fridays since I was usually out and about myself. 

I’d offered him a drink and he’d accepted.

It was well past 8 when we started to say our goodbyes, both leaning over the front counter, when the bell above the door alerts me to newcomers.

I finish up with Blake and glance up, stopping cold.

Standing in DarkStars’ front entrance, the last few rays of sun shining in behind him, is Hux. 

Not just Hux of course; there’s a guy and girl with him, all of them looking curiously lost. 

As Royal Blood’s ‘Hook, line & Sinker’ comes on, I can feel myself grinning. 

Shaking my head and speaking to no one in particular, I say, clear as day, “Fucking perfect” 

~!@!~ 

TBC


End file.
